Page 31 of Mr. Dangerous

"What?"

"You have time for anything you want to make time for,"Joesaid.

Leave it to Joe to allow for no excuses, even a high op tempo. "Then I guess it's just not a priorityforme."

"Huh," Joe saidthoughtfully.

"What?"

"Guess you haven't met the rightgirlyet."

"Guess I haven't." My voice came out quiet. I didn’t want Naomi tooverhear.

"We can walk, you'll never find another parking space," Joe said as Naomi came back into the living room. He took his jacket down from a hook next to the front door and pulled his cane back out of thecorner.

"Are you sure?" Naomiasked.

"I'm fine. A little slow on my feet, but as long as it's only my feet that are slow, I've got no worries." Joe smiled at Naomi. "I wouldn't ask you to get back behind the wheel of a car when you have to put up with Rob's backseatdriving."

"I wish I could drive from the backseat," I said automatically. I wondered if something had happened that gave Joe that limp, or if it was justoldage.

Joe’s eyes met mine. "I’m doing all right, kid. Just that caraccident."

"Were youworking?"

"Yeah. Forced me to retire, and that's not all bad. I’ve gotten to spend more time with my daughter since. Barely saw her when she wasgrowingup.”

“Your daughter?” Naomi glanced at me. Nope. I had not known that the most important adult figure in my life had a kid ofhisown.

“Roslyn. She’s in grad school at Boston College.” Joe paused in the doorway, opening his cell phone to a screen saver of a young woman with short, curly hair framing a heart-shapedface.

“She’s beautiful,”Isaid.

“Thanks,” Joe said, grinning. “Makes me antsy when a Delaney says my girl’s pretty,though.”

The flash of hurt that ripped through my heart at that was one that I pushed away, and I grinned easily. “I’m too busy romancing Naomi over here, don’tworry.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Joe said. “Not about your father and thewreck.”

I nodded, not interested in discussing it, and then Naomi said mildly, “I thought we were justfriends.”

I could’ve kissed her for rescuing me from that topic. “Of course. It’s just that you could so obviously use someromancing.”

“Give Mitch my best when you see him,” Joe said, slowly making his way outthedoor.

“Even after what he did to you?” I asked. The image of Joe carrying his bag down the driveway to his truck, because he wouldn’t lie for my prick of a father, was burned into mymemory.

“I don’t care about him,” Joe said. “I care about you boys. You deserve to see the good in him, to remember the goodtimes.”

Ishrugged.

Joe said, "Your father isn’t all bad, Rob. He was running on instinct that day. Trying to preserve his legacy after. It has nothing to do with you. I couldn't be more impressed with how you boysturnedout."

It was better than I had hoped for when I'd turned off the television in the rec room ten years before and turned to face my brothers. Liam, never one to shy away from a fight, had stared back. Josh had his freckled face propped up on his hand, looking bored, but his dark blue eyes were intent. And then Nick, still in middle school, had stared up at the ceiling,blinkinghard.

"Listen," I had said, "Dad fucked up. It's got nothing to do with us, you hear me? We can be better men than him." We’d just listened to a newscaster call our dad aspoiled playboy murderer.We could serve our country; we could do somethingdifferent.

At the time, they absorbed my pep talk without reacting. I went into the Navy. And then, one after another, my brothers graduated high school and enlisted. I felt more responsible for them now than when we were kids who lived in the samehouse.

I was pretty impressed with how we'd all turnedout,too.

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